


a little bit of sugar, but lots of poison, too

by candyheartschocolatedreams



Category: Game Grumps, Youtubers, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Halloween, Hypnosis, Kidnapping, M/M, This is Bad, Trick or Treating, antisepticeye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-27 20:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8415211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candyheartschocolatedreams/pseuds/candyheartschocolatedreams
Summary: Ashes, ashes, time for Mark to go down...





	1. looking at me through your window

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magic_and_hijinx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_and_hijinx/gifts).



> for ash, my beautiful muse and best friend when I'm up thinking about sin at 3am. you're the best~!

Mark fucking loved Halloween.  
I mean, why _wouldn’t_ he love it? He pretty much played video games packed with gore and tinny sound effects for a living, loved dressing up in costumes waaay too small for him, and eating enough candy to make him sick until Christmas. He’d invited a couple close friends to go trick or treating, too, which was even better! A couple of the Grumps had shown up as well, and Mark had laughed until his sides hurt over brightly colored bowls of spooky party snacks.  
“Alright, time to scare the shit out of some small children,” Arin said, rubbing his hands together.  
Suzy rolled her eyes. “You look more college-student’s-wet-dream than scary, Ar.”  
Arin snorted, posing in his Sonic the Hedgehog costume. “I’m scarier than a college student’s loans, babe.”  
Suzy chuckled and shoved some kettle corn in his mouth. “Whatever you say.”  
It was true that the whole room was a little hard to take seriously. Suzy was the only one dressed to kill as a zombie Wednesday Addams, blood and viscera dripping over her white Peter Pan collar. Aside from the self-proclaimed Queen of Halloween, Ross was wearing his Cool Dude t-shirt and jeans, Arin had a blue skirt of tulle and a fluffy blue hedgehog tail, and Mark--  
“Mark, you are not going trick or treating like that. Someone’s going to grope you,” said Matt.  
“I have a rape whistle!” Ryan said cheerfully. He indeed had a rape whistle. He also had thigh high white socks and a vest covered in patches. Ryan was a Girl Scout. He was also a bit tipsy.  
“Go home, drunk, you’re Ryan.” Mark rolled his eyes and took a sip of water. He looked masculine as _fuck_ in his beat-up red Converse and hair ribbons.  
“And you’re dressed like Little Red Riding Hood.” Matt couldn’t think of anything better to add, so he stuck out his tongue for good measure.  
Everyone chuckled, and the conversation bubbled along for a few more minutes. Then Arin checked his watch.  
“Dude, let’s get going. Mark, weren’t Bob and Wade going to meet us at that arcade on 75th?”  
“I want candy, let’s go!” Ross said.  
“Braaaaains,” Suzy groaned.  
Mark smiled. “All right, kids, let’s go.” He looked over his oddball group of friends and decided there was no better company on Halloween. They burst out the door in a peal of laughter. Ross and Mark got in a heated discussion about whether you could bang an animatronic. (“And where,” Ross added. “Oh god,” said Mark.) Matt flipped the bird to anyone who looked at them funny. They rang doorbells and ding-dong ditched and ate too much candy. The air was cool and crisp and Mark felt invincible.  
But not for long.  
Two hours passed, winding on two and a half, and the whole gang was a little hazy. They’d picked Bob and Wade up from the arcade, only stopping to play a round or four of air hockey, then trick or treated and Arin had tried to scare small children and was actually surprised when he succeeded and--  
“Too much candy,” Ross groaned.  
“No shit,” Arin said, shoving a Snickers in his mouth.  
“Ewww, gross. I can see your peanuts,” Ross said, shrieking as Arin and Suzy pelted him with their unopened candy.  
Mark stifled a yawn under his hand. The evening had been a blast, but this skirt was so fucking itchy and the funny red hat he’d had with the costume had disappeared and to be honest, he was ready to call it a night.  
“Let’s head back to my place and we can crash for a bit, witching hour’s almost upon us.”  
Everyone murmured their agreement and started the trek to Mark’s house. But not five minutes later, Mark stopped them. He could smell something in the air. Even on a stomach full of candy, his mouth watered. The smell was sweet and cinnamon-y and it wrapped him up and carried him--  
“Woah, woah, woah, dude, your house is this way,” Ross said, tugging Mark along by a poofy sleeve.  
Mark took a wistful glance at the house the smell was coming from. It was a nondescript one-story, but a plate of glistening red candy apples was sitting on the doorstep.  
Candy apples! Mark was suddenly misty-eyed with memories that he never knew he had. Trick or treating as Power Rangers with his brother, their toothy smiles reflected in the surface of a shiny candy apple. His mother standing by the stove, letting him stir the thick, heavy gloss. The crisp crunch and sudden bite of nostalgia made Mark stop in his tracks. Arin bumped into him from behind.  
“Like, ow, dude,” Arin said, rubbing his nose. “You cool?”  
“Hold on a sec, I’m gonna go grab one of those candy apples. You guys can go ahead of me, my house is just around the corner.” Mark squirmed out of Ross’ grasp, sprinting through the grass. One of his hair ribbons fell out and landed on the grass.  
Mark lingered over the plate of candy apples. The lights of the house were on, but you could hardly see anything for the intense Halloween decorations that spilled over the porch. Multicolored streamers were bunched around the doorknob. The knocker was a decapitated girl’s head, neat twin braids hanging down from her bodiless remains. Bloody limbs were strewn about the lawn, and all the Jack-o’-lanterns smirked with eerie, lifelike grins. Zombies and skeletons crowded around the single plate of candy apples.  
“You can’t have any,” Mark taunted to the plastic ornaments. He looked over the plate greedily, before snatching up the fattest, reddest one. He took a big bite of the apple and moaned. Shit, this was a good apple. There was a perfect ration of apple to sweet, and the juices streamed down his chin and made his fingers sticky. The sweet apple, flesh pale and juicy, danced with the taste of sweet candy glaze over his tongue. He spun a little circle before taking another bite, and another--  
“Hello t’ere.”  
Mark jumped back and totally did not pee his pants, not even a little bit. He looked around before realizing that it was just the owner of the house, who had opened the door without him noticing. He flushed.  
“H-hi there. You have some fuckin’ delicious apples.”  
Mark blinked before he realized what he’d said, and then furiously tried to backpedal. “What I mean is I--uh--apples--I like your costume,” he ended lamely.  
“Thanks,” said the man. He was wearing a wolf head, so Mark couldn’t see his face. He was wearing a muscle top and shorts, but furry lupine limbs flowed seamlessly out of the holes.  
“Like, dude, I can’t even tell where the person stops and the costume begins, how did you do tha--?”  
“D’you want more apples?” The man asked suddenly.  
Mark pondered the dripping apple in his hand. He took another bite, chewing slowly, letting the syrupy sweetness coat his lips.  
_Danger_ , screamed his mind.  
_Run_ , screamed his legs.  
He licked the stick.  
_Apples_ , screamed his mind.  
“Sure,” he said. “Sure. I’d love another.” The plate of apples on the porch was suddenly absent. So were all the decorations. It was just him, the moon, and the wolf man. It was a full moon. Mark’s candy-apple heart beat too slow to be afraid.  
“Come inside,” said the man. Mark stared at the wolf and felt his legs move and his mind growing bigger. It was a full moon. His vision dripped over with syrup. He stuck his tongue out in vain to try and catch a few drops.  
But the syrup, just like his consciousness, trickled away and disappeared.


	2. i hope to god you're never leaving

“Apples?” Suzy called, itching a blister threatening to form on her right heel. “What candy apples?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading, kudos, and bookmarking this fic!! I never imagined anyone would like this that much lol. third and final chapter is going up on halloween, so stay tuned for tricks (and treats!)


	3. you've reached the end, you are the winner

Mark woke up in a strange place. His candy apple heart beat slow, tranquil, then quicker as the world came into view. There was no light. There was only darkness the color of licorice vines.

His arms had been tied to a chair. His head felt like cotton candy.

“Hello?” He called out, voice thick and fuzzy with disuse. He blinked a few times, yet the darkness still nibbled at his retinas. His heart beat faster. It was so cold.

“Hello.” A wolf man appeared in a doorway made of gingerbread and gumdrops. Candy vines swirled in intricate arcs above his large, furry ears. Mark watched as he trailed a hand down the door, licking his frosting-covered finger.

“Kidnapping. My favorite flavor,” said the wolf. His voice was sweet and slow. The room grew warmer.

“Wh-wha...please let me go.” Mark had finally formed a coherent thought. Trick or treating. A Sonic costume with a puffy skirt. Doorbells crying,  _ smell my feet! Give me something good to eat... _

Zombies, no, headless girls with viscera dripping down their chins. Laughter and arcade games and...

“Candy apples,” Mark said. The words gave him power. He realized what had happened.The dark nibbled at his bound wrists. His eyelids slid over lemon drop eyes, blinking once, twice.

“What the hell was in those apples?!” Mark yelled. He squirmed in the chair. He had people waiting for him, though he couldn’t exactly remember who. Pinball-machine lights flashed in his head, coupled with the smell of candy corn and the  _ clik-clak _ of an air hockey puck, sliding into the goal over and over again.

_ Game over, little boy, _

Said the wolf, golden eyes as large as the moon. He was stepping away from the gingerbread house, coming towards Mark to lock him in an oven and gobble him up.

_ Oh God, _ Mark thought, feeling his jaw move, letting his fear slip out to betray him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you back. But not fer a while. Nobody ever stops by to trick or treat. I get so lonely, my candy apple heart’s been so sore...”

Burn in hell, Mark thought-said, and he clenched his fists. They’ll know I’m gone and they’re gonna come for you, to huff and puff and blow your goddamn house down--

“Quiet,” the wolf hissed. A hand moved against his cheek, razor-sharp fingernails tracing cuts across his cheek that burned like Red Hots.

Mark whimpered. The moon had no pity for him.  _ Silly boy _ , she whispered,  _ handing over your life for a candy apple. _

Mark wanted to protest, but his jaw felt too heavy. Everything was heavy. The wolf circled around him, shoes clicking on the jelly-bean floor.

“So nice for you te visit me. I almost thought ye’d be late,” he said wistfully, “we have so many things te do n’ the night has grown old...”

‘Tell ye what,” he said, leaning down so he was eye level with Mark, swallowing his fear. Mark could smell his breath. It gusted over his face in warm, rotten puffs, smelling like dead animals and candy corn.  “I’ll pick what we do first, just so everything moves along in a timely manner. So much te do, my lil’ candy apple boy.”

And then the wolf’s eyes were on him, and Mark could see through them, falling through their gold transparency and slipping out into the crisp autumn night. Time beat slower, and the wolf grinned, revealing a mouthful of rotted candy-corn teeth.

“Try as they might, none of ‘em can stop me,” he said. Mark’s eyes were heavy.  _ Curious.  _  The wolf’s face warped under his half-closed eyelids: first a wolf, then a green-haired man whispering  _ run _ , then a wolf again...

“They're addicted te sweets, gorging t’emselves on lollipops and wrapped sweets until they are fit te burst. But yet they still howl for more, more...

I offer ‘em a taste, and they come right in my door te gobble it up. So greedy, putting themselves in blatant danger just for a little bite...

But yer different,” he whispered. His eyes were big and gold; Mark’s were low and heavy. The wolf’s words dripped in his ear like melting caramel, making his thoughts run slow. He was so tired. There were hands on his back, pushing him into pools of gold, making him melt into the truth. The wolf’s words were slipping inside him like bitter candy. He had just wanted a bite...

“You took a biiiiig bite, little candy apple boy, the wolf murmured. “And now you’re letting te sweetness get stuck in between yer teeth. Remember what I said about more candy apples?”

Mark felt his head slip into a loose nod. His mind was blank, a soft swirling mass of bitter truths and candyfloss.

The wolf stood and grinned. Mark’s vision grew blurry.

Man, wolf, man. Wolf. Candy apple?

His vision cleared and Mark gaped. The wolf was a man, hair the color of poison apples. He clenched a bright red candy apple in one fist.

“You should see yerself,” he taunted. “All you want is one little bite. Just a bit more, because all yer craving is the sweetness...”

Another lemon-drop blink and the man was close, running his thumb over Mark’s lips. He drew away with something shiny on his fingertips.

“My little candy apple boy is drooling, how sweet,” he said, but the words tasted stale in Mark’s ears. “Do ye want a bite?”

And Mark found himself nodding, a mindless puppet pulled by sugar-spun strings, twisting and turning this way and that...

And he fucking  _ loved _ it.

“Well, ye can’t have one,” said the man, and Mark’s candy heart dripped out of his chest.

Wolf,(man?) opened his mouth wide, and oh God Mark could count every one of his sugary almond teeth, crunching and snapping into the apple’s bright red flesh and something in Mark’s chest was swelling, his candy apple heart growing large enough to burst, taking him higher and higher, over the verge of his conscious, drifting to a place that Jack-o'-lantern light couldn't reach and everything was soft and dark.

The man chuckled, watching his little treat ravish over how his mouth tore apart at the apple, spit and sugar staining his lips redredred, until all that was left was a stained popsicle stick. Little Red Riding Hood had wandered down the wrong path, and the Big Bad Wolf had gone and gobbled every last bit of her mind up.

And it was delicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, everyone! I hope you stayed safe and got lots candy, seeing as we can't say the same for poor Mark...  
> But thanks for enjoying my little story, and be sure to comment, like, leave kudos, comment, etc! Thanks~!


End file.
